The O-Factor
by candycornbuddy
Summary: A mysterious 22-year old man known as O surfaces, and he aims to wipe out Wammy's House, bit by bit, with the enlisted aid of the Death Note and his angel-like shinigami Naja. He always gets alarmingly close to L, but leaves behind no evidence. Will L be able to identify O as the murderer before he himself dies? Warnings: moody Mello, an alternate storyline, BB-like sassy murderer
1. The Funeral

O smirked, proud of what he had accomplished. It had almost been laughably easy. The casket lay as a cruel reminder to the small population of people who had loved Near. L, accompanied by Watari, Mello, Matt, Roger, and several others all gathered there at the funeral. Nobody cried, excluding a few hidden tears from L. O raised the side of his lip, showing the side of his pearly white canines. N was as alone in death as he was in life; that was his weakness. The sociopathic, white haired young man - no, boy - had a longing for any personal relationship he could grasp, pathetic really. O stroked the thin black notebook that read Death Note on the front, and glanced back at his pale-skinned shinigami, Naja. It really was much too easy for him to wipe out Wammy's house, as the only challenge was to find out their names. Near was just the beginning; with Light and Misa out of the way, Wammy's was his to destroy, piece by piece.

O caught a glimpse of L's raccoon-like face, peering back at him through his dark obsidian eyes. L knew he'd seen him before, but he couldn't peel from his mind where. L tried not to let it get to him, but he couldn't shake the feeling of the dark emerald eyes bearing into his skin. He loosened his tie and shifted around in his seat before turning to the front again. The service began, more boring than you would expect from a funeral of one so important, though not widely recognized. The way Near had died was quite embarrassing, yet believable. Near had gotten a Lego brick lodged in his throat. O grinned to himself, ignoring the heartfelt speech from L that was occurring. O once again turned his attention to L and ran a hand through his shaggy chocolate colored hair.

"Near was a person we all respected for his work. He was a proud, efficient person, never stopping at the bare minimum." Mello scoffed slightly, receiving an elbow to the ribs from Matt, who hypocritically enough was playing his DS at the moment. Mello turned his eyes to the screen; a green clothed elf was fighting off a trio of what appeared to be pellet shooting octopi that came from the ground. The elf pulled out his shield, knocking the second ground-octopus's pellet back first, then the third octopus's pellet, then finally blocked the pellet from the first octopus in line. The three octopi squealed and began to confide a secret to the elf. Mello shook his head and continued listening to L. "…and he deserves full respect, even in death." Roger looked at his watch and snorted, causing a brief stare from the members of the audience. He looked down in embarrassment. L looked up, seemingly unaware of the exchange that just occurred, and swiftly ended his speech with the words: "Well, I hope you have a nice afternoon, everyone

He hurried over to Watari, stifling tears. It was clear how much L actually cared for Near, especially to O, who was watching with extreme interest. The same had not occurred at Light ,and Misa's joint funeral, where O had heard L calling Light and Misa cowards for committing suicide, and it only proved that they were Kira. O smiled slightly when he realized how attached L was to the ragamuffins of Wammy's House, thinking of how much fun it would be to rip them all away from him.


	2. The Tape

O stumbled out of bed, breathing heavily from the dream he had. It was an odd dream to say the least. In it, L and O were sitting together in the middle of a shopping mall, when suddenly, everything began spinning, and they were the only ones who weren't, though they could feel the swift whirl of the wind around them. The drone of the mundane conversations slowly dissipated and the wind stopped and, as it were, they were alone in the center of the shops. L leaned forward towards O and practically purred the words: "So, tell me about yourself." It was at this moment in the dream that O woke up, sweating heavily and panting. Naja turned towards him, smiling wickedly.

"Bad dream?"

"I don't have bad dreams." He spat the words, giving the bandaged shinigami a little laugh at his indignant manner of speaking. "I was simply surprised that a certain _shinigami_ was staring at me while I slept, so I reacted as a _human_ would. Is that so hard for you to believe?" Naja smiled once again.

"Ah, so you're trying to act like a human. You're quite the impressive actor."

O mumbled something unintelligible along the lines of "Naja could become a *murmur* vegetable *murmur* wizard hat and *murmur* still old enough to be my *murmur* raisin-like swine." He scratched, stretched, and shooed the offended Naja away and went into the bathroom, setting his glasses on his dresser on the way. O was actually rather proud of his appearance. He had a rather lean build, but he was quite muscular. He was tall as well, at about six foot two. After admiring himself for a few more minutes and answering Naja's question as to where the dry cereal was kept, O pulled off his loose pajama bottoms and stepped into the warm solace of the shower.

L was confused in an odd sort of way. It was the type of confused that comes from realizing all of the answers but not understanding them in the slightest. He'd found something that contradicted the circumstances of Light and Misa's deaths; an un-labelled tape under the bed that he and Light had shared. When he had found it, he almost dismissed it, but his curiosity eventually led him to watching it. It was Light's suicide message, except it wasn't. It started off with Light leaning back in one of the swivel chairs, pressing his thumbs against his temples. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

"Ryuuzaki." The ebony-haired detective set down the peach yogurt he was eating and turned his undivided attention to the screen. "I am going to die. I know I am. Very, very, soon. I know this may well be the last chance I get to tell you, so here goes. I am Kira." L dropped the spoon he had been twirling in his mouth to the floor in surprise at the straight-forwardness of the confession. "That isn't important now, though. What you need to know is how I killed the criminals. There is a book wielded by shinigami. It is known as a Death Note, and it can kill anyone just by knowing the face and name of your victim. I thought there were only two in the human world - mine, and Misa's. But I was wrong."

L pondered the idea of a Death Note for a moment. He wondered what they would look like. A pause in Light's speech ensued, and L used the time to demolish the rest of the peach yogurt. Almost immediately after L finished licking the tin clean, Light continued speaking. "I met him on the streets one night, and I could tell. I could tell the face of a man who had been touched by a Death Note from a man without. He could too, and he also knew I was Kira. He called himself O." L stroked his chin, thinking of the sequence. L, M, N, O, and he realized the significance. O was the end of the group of the letters.

"But Light-kun… what does he want?" Light continued talking, almost to answer Ryuuzaki's question.

"He knew my name, but I didn't know his, and you can see where it went with him. My thinking that Misa and I alone held Death Notes was demolished. If he has killed us, he either still has our Death Notes or we died with them." Light went on to describe the features of O, and L realized where he'd seen him before. Light described him as a 'tall, handsome one with the glasses-covered jade eyes and scruffy brown hair'. He had been at both of the funerals. "L." Ryuuzaki once again gave his full attention to the screen on which the tape was playing. "I saw… I know… He wrote Near's name in the Death Note." L bit his thumb nervously. "Something tells me that maybe, just maybe, the rest of Wammy's house is at risk. I'm sorry, but good luck and good-bye." The tape ended and automatically ejected from the VCR as fuzzy black and white took over the small screened television. L dialed Watari's number slowly and delicately picked up the cell phone.

"Watari… There's somebody I need you to keep an eye on for me… You ask who? The truth is, I don't know."


	3. An Unorganized Meeting

"Are you… _Ryuuzaki_?_"_ O phrased L's alias with a hint of sarcasm. "It's such a pleasure to be able to meet such a renowned detective."

L looked up, surprised. He already had Watari searching for O with all of the king's horses and all the king's men, but here he was, plain as day. O had come directly to L.

"Uh, well, I…" L faltered in his speech. "I'm quite flattered, but skipping the formalities, how do you know who I am?"

"Well, even though neither of us even know each other's _names_, I'm glad you're getting so intimate with me already." L looked at him with a mix of confusion and disgust as he stirred the caramel latte and almost ignored his strawberry cheesecake.

"I wasn't exactly implying anything, I was only asking how you knew my alias-"

"Oh, yeah, that… well, a little birdie told me. That little birdie happened to be your own. I would assume you know who that would be." O smiled rather charmingly, and L fought the color that was rising in his cheeks.

"Why did you kill Light?" L said those words with a throat full of ferocity. O managed to look surprised and innocent.

"Why, Ryuuzaki, I thought that was what you wanted. To get rid of _Kira._" O's pupils dilated slightly, managing to give him puppy dog eyes. He really was a good actor, Naja thought, placing her scabbed pale hand to her forehead, chuckling a bit.

L fought a rare smile that was planting itself on his face. His plan of acting flustered was working perfectly. "I-I did, b-but not to introduce another killer into the world. I-if I may ask, what is your goal?" O grinned gladly, happy they'd arrived at this situation. O was not shy.

"Just having a little fun. Seeing how quickly you –or one of your little Wammy kids- can catch me. I expect to live for quite a while, seeing the current circumstances. Well, Ryuuzaki, I guess this is goodbye for now." O planted a kiss on the surprised L's forehead and threw himself of the balcony. L ran over to the ledge, expecting to see O dead on the ground, but he'd vanished. L returned to the cheesecake, trying to run over everything that had just occurred in his head, trying to analyze it all. O had made no mistakes.

"O, dearest, you know how much I enjoy catering to your childish desires," Naja said, her voice filled with a gravelly sarcasm, "but do I really have to fly you around at your slightest whim?"

"Naja, why do you have to be no fun at all times? It's a quick and reliable –not to mention energy efficient- way to travel." Naja rolled her eyes and slowly made a landing on the roof of their hotel. O hopped off and climbed down the stairs into the tall, ornate building. Naja stayed on top, not wanting to succumb to any more of the young genius's whims. She smiled, thinking of the day that they first met.

Naja was examining him from the shinigami world. He was sitting on the table in his flat, watching the news on Kira.

"How does he manage not to get caught with a genius like L following him around all the time?" muttered O, who had been fascinated with the Kira case at the time. He hadn't known about it at the beginning, but as news reached England about the mysterious Kira, O was intrigued. He scrolled through thousands and thousands of words on the mysterious murderer. He then found something interesting. Kira's first killing; the news broadcast was only shown in the Kanto region of Japan. One-way plane tickets led him to Kanto, and that led him to Kira.

Naja was naturally very intrigued that someone with such little accessibility to the amount of knowledge that L had was only a bit behind, so she decided to give him a head start. O had been shocked and slightly skeptical towards the Death Note, and he was more fearing towards the book of death itself than towards Naja herself, because, as he often said, "What are you without it? Just a flying pink lizard." Naja was always very attracted to that aspect of him, the cold, analytical parts that managed to hold so much humanity. Naja never thought much of humans, but O was special to her. The scabbed shinigami shook her head of the musings and headed down into the hotel, zipping down the red carpeted stairs, stopping at room sixteen.


	4. A Date

O tapped his foot, waiting for Matt Jeevas to arrive. The mall was just starting to fill up with people, and it was getting harder to spot a singular person in the drooling masses. O smiled as he saw the red haired, orange goggled boy walking as he played a silver PSP. O knew he could kill Matt too easily, as he didn't hide his name, but he'd decided to have a little fun at Matt's expense. O held the sign that read "Olivia" above his head, and Matt sped up his feet, not paying attention to the obviously not female figure beneath the sign. O smiled cutely when Matt finally reached the plastic table that O was sitting on.

"Hey, Matt. My name's Olivia." Matt looked at "Olivia" with a slightly horrified expression.

"But your profile said you were a chick." O looked displeased at the nonchalant manner in which Matt was reacting. He decided to mess with him a bit more. O slid off the table in the relatively empty foodcourt and placed a hand on Matt's suddenly rigid neck.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" he whispered sweetly into Matt's ear as he placed the wet cloth to the infuriated Matt's nose. He was out cold in a matter of seconds, but nobody in the now crowded area cared or realized. O wrinkled his nose in disgust at how nobody in the entire six-thousand square foot foodcourt noticed a kidnapping occurring. People were sickeningly ignorant and he didn't even want to associate himself with the species. He hoisted Matt into his arms, holding him like a baby, and exited the mall, leaving the "Olivia" sign behind.

He waited in the parking lot, tapping his foot insistently. Naja sighed and lent him her wings. She was growing tired of the almost constant nagging, but she was beginning to become interested in the way things were turning out. "O."

O sighed and turned his attention to the winged shinigami. "Yes, Naja?"

"I'm not on your -or anyone's, for that matter- side."

"Yes, Naja. If it makes you feel better about your obvious love for me to say that, then go ahead." Naja was irritated with the pompous, smart-mouthing boy. If there was another snide remark, then she wouldn't hesitate to drop him to the human-laden streets below, with the unconscious Matt still in his arms. "Where do you suggest we drop him, oh-so lovely Naja?"

"Here." She swept down, her feathered wings making a delicate fwip sound against the cold autumn wind. Her pale clawed feet graced the dark alley with a bit of light, and the slowly awakening Matt was pushed off of her bony, bandaged back. He hit the ground, knocking over some boxes and bins in the process.

"Why would we drop him in close proximity to our hotel, Naja?" O was irritated, hoping Naja wasn't as stupid as she was beginning to appear.

"Because we're moving to a different hotel." O clung on to the prominent collarbone on Naja's back, bracing himself as her wide wingspan lifted him into the air.

"Oh, Naja. It gives me shivers when you take control like that." Naja ignored him, and they flew up into the morning sun, avoiding the glances of passerby for the purposes of this story.

"L." The ebony-haired detective glanced up to find the leather-clad blond staring down at his hunched figure. "Have you seen Matt, by any chance?" L shook his head, and Mello stomped his booted foot. "Of course you haven't! You've just been staring at that screen the entire day, even now that Kira is dead. What's wrong with you?" L just looked up at Mello's face with a pitiable look upon his own.

"Near. He didn't die from the Lego." Mello stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Look, I understand you looooove Near and everything, but this is just going too far. We were the ones that _found_ the Lego in his throat." L opened his mouth to speak again and almost gestured towards the tape that was laying in the absent heavenly light of his computer screen, but was interrupted by a quiet buzz at the door of the hotel room, number eighteen. Mello discards the angry expression on his face and hurries over to look through the peephole to see a slightly intoxicated looking Matt. Mello swiftly unchains the door and Matt stumbles in, mumbling a slight "Thank you." before collapsing on the blue couch.

"Mmmmrrr…" Matt pressed his head into the pillow of the futon.

Mello mumbled profanities and that got to work scolding Matt. "It's eleven A.M, for Christ's sake! How are you already drunk?"

"Er'm not." Matt fell asleep quickly, almost to avoid the questioning of Mello. Mello sighed. Matt almost always shied away from alcoholic beverages. If anything, Mello would've been the one to have gotten drunk at this hour.

L mumbled something quietly, and Mello heard it as "Oh."

"What are you 'Oh-ing' at, L?" The irritated Mello looked at L expectantly, hoping to receive an answer from the black-eyed detective, but no words were spoken for a few minutes. L took in a shaky breath and was just about to show Mello the tape, but the infuriated blond stomped out of the hotel room, the heavy steel-toed boots marking a cold emphasis on the hardwood floors. L looked down at the teeny scratches that had been made in the entranceway, and began chewing on his thumbnail.

"If you keep scratching the floors, we're going to have to pay a fine…" L whispered softly to nobody but himself.

"So, Naja, what hotel do you suggest we go to next?" O sat outside the tall building, suitcase next to him.

"Somewhere a bit nicer; the room service here is terrible." O was about to reply to her sarcastically, when he noticed an odd character rushing out of the hotel doors, chocolate bar in hand. O smiled to himself, and recognized him as Mello, the moody blond from the funeral. O continued to stare, and the blond stopped in his tracks.

"What do you think you're looking at?" Mello looked at the brown haired man sitting on the cement next to the hotel doors. The man simply laughed.

"It appears we've got a fiery one here, Naja." Mello looked at the man who seemed as if he was talking to himself.

"Excuse me?" Mello haughtily placed his hands on his hips. O laughed, and Naja smiled a bit.

"I didn't say anything, sir. Have a nice day." Mello looked down with indignation.

"Uh, same to you."

O waited until Mello was out of ear's reach to whisper "Don't tell me what to do."


	5. A Note and a Missing Laptop

L shuffled into the hotel room, looking curiously at the Matt that was just beginning to awaken. He went to the kitchen and set down the bag filled with chocolate bars for Mello, a new game titled Animal Crossing for Matt, and a strawberry cheesecake for himself. He took a bottle of water out of the fridge, setting it next to the red-head. Thoughts of O were running through his mind; he wanted everything that happened to have some connection to the murderous brunet, but nothing did, at least that he could soundly verify. He retreated to his seat in the office area of the hotel room, hoisting himself into the chair in his usual fashion. Then something caught his eye.

Something was amiss, though L didn't realize what. He closed his eyes and traced every object that he'd kept on top of the desk, comparing it to the physical copy. He then realized what was missing from the glass desk. Light's laptop. He ran his finger over the clear surface, and noticed something else wrong. There was a note taped to the underside. He slid himself under the desk and snatched the note. Once he was in a mostly upright position, he began to read.

_Ryuuzaki, you always fail to amaze mE._

_Only now you can learn it._

_Obviously, it's never touched the game._

_My, getting you reaching for a long-lost star?_

_1 very six is now stern._

_5 interesting people are alpha._

L rubbed his temples and resituated himself. Was it perhaps a cryptogram? He reached for the pen and pad of paper that lay on his desk, writing out the alphabet and numbers one through twenty-six, then shaking his head he turned to the next page. It didn't make enough sense to be an alphabetical code. He conceded his previous idea and began to write down the letters from the side down.

R

O

O

M

1

5

L smiled; he was getting somewhere with this. He then dropped the upwards curve from his pale face and began writing the letters on the other side; after all, me ended with a capital E.

E

t

e

r

n

a

Room 15, Eterna. It meant either a hotel or apartment number. He turned to his laptop, typing _hotel eternal_ in as his search. Google autocorrected his search with _Showing results for: Eterna apartments_. He clicked on the business website and found the apartment chain to be located in London. He let out a sigh and bookmarked the page.

"Naja, I feel bad just leaving the apartment empty for when he gets there. Should we do something with the room?" The bandaged angel-like shinigami turned from her bowl of strawberry-flavored dry cereal.

"O, why do you insist on making things unnecessarily cruel?" Naja smiled sweetly, or as sweetly as one whose mouth is only half-attached can.

"I didn't mean something necessarily harmful, however, you've just given me a menacing and obviously evil idea." The green-eyed exceptional pressed his palms together in a cliché witch-like way, and cackled an obviously fake laugh. Naja rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you're right for once. Maybe I will leave it empty; it might actually make it more disappointing. Just imagine it. L will open the door, proud of his "deduction" skills, and find a room void of any person, or with a new, perhaps angrier resident. Thank you, Naja." He deviously rubbed the small key that read "15" on it between his thumb and forefinger.

Naja rolled her eyes once again in her particular fashion and, disregarding everything O just gushed, simply replied "And what do you mean I'm right for once?"


	6. Abandonment

Matt slowly awoke, rubbing his hand across the indent the orange-lensed goggles had left on his forehead.

"Mgghhhh… there was a girl, except she wasn't…" Mello, who'd recently come back from his temper tantrum that had taken place all around town (two children lost their innocence and three others were blinded), laughed.

"Matt, what kind of crack have you been smoking lately?" Matt sat up on the couch, yawning slightly.

"Mels, what time is it?" Mello turned his attention to the digital clock in the kitchen, its green LED letters reading six fourty-two P.M.

"It's a quarter to seven, and don't call me Mels." Matt smirked, almost fully awake.

"Okay, Mels." Mello lifted his fist and was just about to thump the redhead when L shuffled out of his bedroom at the end of the hall.

Matt sat up and smiled. "Morning, L. Nice of you to join us." L's smooth, complacent expression stayed silent as he walked out into the living room, rubbing his foot over his jeans as he shuffled in.

"Shut up, Matt. You've been asleep since eleven this morning." Matt grinned and placed his hand at the back of his neck, pulling at his vest in a nervous fashion.

"Yeah, about that..."

O stared at his computer that was just beginning to download all of the files on the Kira case. The cool, condescending light bathed him in mystery. His glasses were pushed upon his head, leaving his viridian eyes to dart freely around the room, unchained from the clear covering. Night was slowly descending upon the world. His attention strayed from the screen to the window where a thousand tiny lights were twinkling. O wondered how such beauty could be so close – a mere four point two four three lightyears – to such filth. Billions of people bumbled about on earth, never stopping to wonder what would happen if they actually _thought_ for once. Still millions of people were insane, murdering dozens without careful thought or precision, nary a thought of consequences in their heads. That was O's problem with the world. Lack of thought, a life-threatening disease; it infected the waters and fields, invaded the genetics, looming over the world, slowly destroying us all. O's whirring mind halted when he heard the quiet ping that rang out from the computer.

O licked his lips as he began to devour the information he'd uploaded onto his HP mini. Everything from L's own computer was by default on Light's laptop, as the laptop was issued from Watari himself with a duplicate of all of L's own files held on it, including the ones holding information about the Wammy children. He clicked on a file titled wammy33&448!# and it expanded to reveal hundreds of individual documents on each of the children, though as O began to scour through the landfill of orphaned boys and girls, he discovered no names were listed, not even those of the ones on the bottom of the list. They were all given their own letter or nickname, though it seemed letters were reserved for those at the top of the list. There was a girl called "Winter" who was number sixteen on the most recent test. O smiled; she was so close, but not close enough. Number eight on the list was particularly interesting to O. She was known as "X". Apparently she had been number one on the list when she was younger, but she had lost interest as she got older, and even though she was putting in little effort she still placed in the top eighth percentile. That was O's type of girl.

O spent hours upon hours pouring over the files, examining each one tenderly and individually. He realized something; there was no way he was going to be able to learn all these names. He breathed in a shaky sigh, hoping that his plan would work, and turned to Naja.

"Are you up for some negotiating on the eyes?"

"It isn't exactly orthodox, but I can talk about it. What else would you be willing to offer?"

"Two Death Notes; double the entertainment for you." Naja looked taken aback at his statement, then she relaxed herself.

"And where did you get these Death Notes? The shinigami king is going to freak out if he ever learns about this stuff." Naja shuddered, and O just smiled his sickeningly sweet smile.

"I killed the two known people in the world who held a Death Note, and you're going to question where I got them from? That's a bit stupid, isn't it? I mean, even for you." Naja ignored the snide comment and continued to speak.

"Normally, if the Death Note's holder dies, the shinigami takes it back. I don't understand how you kept the Death Notes from the shinigami. Did you manipulate the circumstances of death so that the shinigami returned to the shinigami realm?" O smiled and clucked his tounge.

"Always overcomplicating things. I didn't need to involve the shinigami; they didn't care whether their owners lived or died, as they both had duplicate Death Notes. The Death Notes were mine once I touched them, so all I needed to do was grab them when they fell toward the ground."

"Regardless, I can't make the trade. It's against the rules." O pulled the Sam Winchester puppy-dog eyes paired with a pouty lip.

"Please? Pretty please with whipped cream, a cherry, and dried cereal on top?" Naja grinned and laughed the peculiar "kukukuk" laugh that shinigami seemed to have generically.

"Now why can't you be like that all the time?"

"Because I'm losing. I'm going to lose!" O slammed his fist into the wall, but then again, the wall had it coming.

Naja appeared alarmed at the sudden outburst from the usually headstrong boy. It had never happened before; how was she supposed to react? "Are you okay? Do you need something?"

"Goddamnit, shinigami! If there's anything that I _don't _need, it's you!"

The lanky winged shinigami moved her claws backwards, making a sound similar to a violin on the tiled floors of the hotel room. "I… I'll go then." She passed through the door of room four nineteen and flew away, her wings making a longing swish sound as she exited the room.

O lifted his head from his hands and whispered "Don't go yet." But it was too late. She had already gone.

Author's note: Yo! Sorry about the short chapters; I'm going to be on a sort of hiatus for this story as I write the next chapter. I'm aiming for it to be at least five thousand words, maybe longer. I made a reference in here that I'm really rather proud that I thought of it at the moment I was writing. If you spot it, you get a free invisible cookie! Please review and give me some criticism and suggestions; I need some at this point. Bye, friends!


	7. Snogged

*Magical timeskip - provided by The Doctor!*

L opened the door to the apartment, the key making a hollow click sound in the cavern of the doorknob. He surveyed the den, his eyes narrowing as he glanced in every nook and cranny filled to the brim with disappointment. The room was empty, save for a few stools that were turned about at a linoleum encased counter-top and a desk that was attached to the wall. He entered cautiously and suspiciously, knowing that if O had simply left the key there for him to use, there had to be something wrong. He ran his hand along the wall, checking for wire taps and cameras in the corners and above the banisters. He found none. He was almost disappointed in O; had he really only left an empty apartment? L found himself almost wanting to be taken advantage of. At least he would know that it was over if that happened, but now he felt dumb as he cautiously tip-toed across the cheaply carpeted floors. He made his way towards the end of the hall, where two ominous doors awaited him; the bathroom and the bedroom. He grimaced and shut his eyes as he twisted the nob on the bedroom door to reveal-

O had become more violent in the week that Naja had been gone. He found himself shouting out for her in the middle of the night, and punching walls during the day. His killing became indiscriminate; he killed at random, knocking holes in the world population. He even botched out twelve of Wammy's in a single day. So many people died - but hey, that's what people do. He didn't sleep, he hardly ate. Every rustle of the curtains and leaves on the trees - it almost brought him to tears when he ran out onto the balcony to find nothing there. One morning when he was feeling particularly malicious, he decided to have a bit more fun to feed his addiction.

Mello and Matt walked about the small store where Mello got the bulk of his odd wardrobe - it specialized in leather items, of course. O walked in, carrying a page of the Death Note and a ballpoint pen in his right hand. He pressed the crinkled paper up against the wall of the store and began to write.

_Matt Jeevas and Mihael Keehl enter Mihael's favorite store, Wilson's at exactly eleven am. Mihael, who has harbored feelings for Matt his entire life leans over to kiss him at eleven six am. Matt is extremely surprised and this along with his lifetime cigarette habit induces heart palpitations leading up to a heart attack. Mihael screams when Matt falls to the ground dying, and instead of contacting one one nine, he pulls a pistol out of his back pocket and shoots himself in the head at eleven thirteen._

O lifted his watch. Eleven o three. Just three minutes until they died. Together. Matt lifted up a leather vest excitedly.

"Hey, Mels! Do you think this would look good on me?"Eleven o four.

"Uh, yeah! Try the red one, though. Red is truly your color." Mello said the last sentence haughtily while waving his hand down dramatically. Matt laughed and pulled out a cigarette while Mello sported the biggest grin O had ever seen him wear. Then again, he'd only ever seen Mello at a funeral and during a temper tantrum. Eleven o five.

"Maybe you should try those." Matt pointed to a pair of black Doc Martins on a rack next to a mannequin wearing the exact same pants Mello wore at the moment.

O smiled. Eleven o six.

Mello grinned and planted a small kiss on Matt's cheek. Matt squealed uncharacteristically high and dropped his glowing cigarette to grab his chest. O retreated like the slinky cat he was out of the store and leaned on the wooden pillar next to the entrance patiently. Mello screamed, unsure of what to do. He paced quickly around the store, trying to get a sales associate's help, but none of his speech was coherent. He raced back to Matt. Foam was slipping from his mouth accompanied by spurts of blood, staining the plush brown carpet. Mello covered his mouth and bit his striped shirt that looked oddly enough like Matt's. Eleven ten.

"What … what did I do? Oh my God. Oh my God, Matt!" Mello was practically shell shocked, pulling out his pistol with shaky hands, his breath coming out in short quavering bursts. He dropped to his knees, pulling the gun to his head as he rocked back and forth, cradling the convulsing Matt in his arms. Eleven twelve. "Matt. Matt. Matt!" Mello was going completely insane, stroking Matt's hair as he turned off the safety. Eleven thirteen.

The two shots Mello fired into his cranium pierced the heavy music of the store, creating white noise that encircled the store, entrancing the nearby shoppers. If guns were illegal in Japan, then what was that sound? He frowned, having been only slightly entertained by the menagerie of everyday human life being interrupted by something different. O slipped through the crowd of shamefully sympathetic - who are they trying to impress? - faces easily, having had enough fun for the day. He was ready for Naja to swoop down to carry him back to the hotel, but he remembered. He angrily began to walk back to the hotel.

Nothing. The bedroom was empty. L walked in as if the floor was a minefield, stroking every surface cautiously with his foot before he walked over it. He touched the wall, finding no wire taps or cameras. He shook his head and clucked his tongue as he began to shuffle out, but then he felt paper touch his hand. He turned around to see the empty bedroom once again, but as he turned again to leave, he saw a hideous... no, beautiful sight in front of him.

It was about seven feet tall, and had a wingspan of sixteen feet that was crushed between the walls, begging for any space they could get in the cramped hall. Its face was about half human, with about a quarter of a female's lips and one piercing blue eye. L looked it over, deciding it to be a she. Her arms were strong and muscular, though one was covered with scarred skin while the other was raw, naked muscle. Her torso was mainly ribs, parts of it covered with bandages and chains. Short white hair hung loosely from her scalp in a sort of pixie cut, stopping on one side above her pointed ear and on the other just past her chin. Her legs were long and bandaged, leading down to an avian's clawed feet. L grinned, pressing a finger to his lip.

"You must be an angel of death." Naja looked surprised for a split second, but then she smiled at the warm greeting she was given in contrast to O's.

"Yes. My name is Naja." L grinned curiously.

"My name-" Naja stopped him with a touch of her cold hands.

"I already know your name. Your _real _name." L stopped grinning. He had never felt this feeling before; fear, it must have been. He clenched his teeth together and glanced out the window, realizing where O had trapped him. It was quite ironic, actually, that L thought that O was a criminal mastermind when he actually had no idea that Naja was carrying out his plans for him. Naja smiled when she realized that she had in fact fallen in love with O. She would kill L soon, but not now. She wanted to see them meet.

"I came to take you to O." L stepped back, but then realized he really had no other choice besides jumping out of the window, and that was absolute certain death, and that idea was more unsavory than an undecided, uncertain death. He walked out of the apartment building, and hopped onto the soft, feathery wings of Naja, realizing this was how O had jumped off of the balcony of the cafe without being seen. He wrapped his legs around her thin torso hesitantly as they lifted into the sky at a speed that astounded him. He looked around at the world under him, marveling at how oblivious everyone could be, clinging to the skin of the little planet called earth, and if they let go, even for one second, they would spin into the calamity of knowledge that only the most sophisticated of minds can handle. He rubbed his temples, only just realizing how naïve he had been about the human condition for so many years. Maybe he was the real naivety, not them. Always thinking the best of people until cause of suspicion, that was wrong. A dozen crimes were being committed at that very moment, and the public turned a blind eye to how miserable and lowly their lives could truly be if it weren't for people like him. It was at that moment, that turning point, that barely recognizable second that fled so quickly when L decided in vain of his clinging innocence that you were guilty until proven otherwise.

O arrived in the hotel room, still panting from the watching Mello shoot himself in the head. Adrenaline was pumping through his blood. Murder was better than drugs (I don't recommend doing either). It brought a sort of apprehension with it; a mix of unmistakable fear and an unsure and uncertain surge of happiness. He was distracted from himself and his musings by the sound of wings flapping outside his window, casting a shadow over the room. He ran out onto the balcony, running a hand through his messy hair. He flung open the glass doors to see Naja outside, smiling, with a considerably less joyful-looking L on her back.

"Oh, Naja. You should have carried him in your talons. It would've frightened him more." O grinned, and the exchange was returned by Naja, the muscles on the right side of her face flexing with her mouth on the left.

"I doubt I would have enjoyed that; a squirming person is much less enjoyable compared to a still one. I'm not particularly partial to the sound of screaming, either." She shot a venom glare towards L who was now on the balcony, trying to regain his balance.

"I think you would scream a bit as well if you were flying on the back of an unfamiliar humanoid angel of death that could kill you at any time." O smiled and walked over to Naja, standing on the tips of his toes to kiss her on the muscle of her face, licking the congealed blood. Charming as ever.

"She is nothing less than a lady, L, and I will not have you treat her as anything less than that." Naja rolled her eyes, though she smiled. "As are you, L. Come sit." She stopped smiling. L disregarded O calling him a female and hoisted himself into his normal sitting position, while O sat himself in a criss-cross applesauce position on the glass table. His long legs stretched his formal pants, revealing polka dotted socks. Naja stared at them.

"So, do all sociopaths have a peculiar fashion of sitting, or is it just you two?" They exchanged glances and spoke at the same time.

"I'm not a sociopath."

"Well, Raito always did have a particularly odd way of crossing his legs when he sat, so I suppose so."

They exchanged stares once again, each gathering different things from what they said. L seemed focused on denying he was inane when it came to the feelings of humans, while O made a wisecrack. Naja was simply amused at the way the pair spoke to each other, so formally, but in a way that it seemingly came naturally to them. L took in a breath like he was about to speak, but O interjected before he could speak.

"Would you like something to eat, L?" Naja was about to lecture him on how rude it was to interrupt people, but L answered before she could speak.

"If you have anything with the words 'strawberry' or 'cake' in it, that would be preferable. Otherwise, coffee with twelve sugar cubes in it." Naja glanced at O with one of the 'Oh my God, is he serious?' looks she commonly used in the company of O and his madness, but he simply got up in disregard of the abnormality of that amount of sugar and went into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with two mugs, a bowl of sugar cubes, and a box of Special K for Naja.

"Here, L. Nice hot cup of coffee." L took a small, cautious sip, as if that would protect him from any poisoning.

"It's cold."

"Nice cup of coffee."

"It's disgusting."

"Cup of coffee." O smiled in a melancholy mixture of displeasure and happiness.

L looked down into the cup where a pool of black sludge awaited him. "I'm not even sure that it's coffee."

O frowned. "Cup." Naja rolled her eyes and tossed a handful of cereal into her mouth.

"Normally I'm the one who actually cooks things. I seldom enjoy eating food from the human world, but cereal is delicious. I don't even know if that one eats." She impolitely jerked a thumb at O who was still staring at L and his disapproval towards his coffee that he poured his soul into (there was a reason it was black) with displeasure. O smiled.

"Don't listen to her. I'm a mastermind in the kitchen. I watch the Food Network sometimes without changing the channel. I did it for six minutes once." O laughed at his own joke, then returned to speaking in a serious tone of voice. "Raito told me once that you compare yourself to Sherlock Holmes." L frowned, failing to see the point. O grinned, laughing devilishly on the inside. "Would you compare me to Moriarty?" L paused, not knowing how to respond.

"Moriarty's better looking than you." O frowned.

"Now why can't you play nice?" L scoffed in an uncharacteristic way.

"Oh, of course. Sorry. Let me just murder a handful of your successors then send my winged god of death to kidnap you and trap you in a hotel with your worst enemy, then we'll call it playing nice."

"Oh, you consider little old me your worst enemy, L? I'm so flattered." O smiled, unfazed. Naja rolled her eyes once again. She was comparable to a heckler at a grade school production of Hamlet. What did she really expect if not for theatrics?

"This is not a laughing matter, O." O grinned in a way that would put the Chesire cat to shame, regardless of the ferocity of L's tone that rarely ever got like this.

"Then what shall we call it? A chuckling, guffawing, chortling, or snickering matter? Or perhaps a giggling matter, I do very much like the sound of that. There are plenty of other descriptors that are synonymous with the term 'laugh' if you dislike the word so much." L knitted his fingers together, all the while gritting his teeth to keep from speaking. Silence surrounded the three for a few minutes, until O made the bright decision to break it, as usual. He leaned towards L, chest forward in a seductive manner. "What's wrong, Ellllleee? Are you giving me the silent treatment? If so, I'm not enjoying it very much. Please stop." L finally snapped, slamming his fist on the table, creating a large crack that ran from where the center of his fist had landed. He removed his hand, revealing a large gash filled with blood that ran from the center of his thumb to the side of his forearm, staining the sleeve of his white shirt pink. Now O appeared almost genuinely concerned. "We should get you to a hospi-"

"No, O! You're not taking me anywhere!" L ran to the door of the hotel and flung it open, only to reveal a balcony. He turned around, trying to reach the door opposite. Blood was dripping from the wound on his arm, staining the carpet as he stumbled. "Mmmph..." He fell to the ground in faint, cradling his bloodied arm. O jumped up and quickly ran over to L. He scooped his thin figure up and into his arms, looking between the two doors, trying to decide whether to exit through the front door of the hotel room or through the balcony. He made the safe, or safer, decision of going through the balcony, and swiftly hopped on Naja's back as they flew to the hospital.

L's lip was torn open from where he had fainted on the hardwood floor and there was a throbbing purple bruise showing on the edge of his pale face. His hand was torn open, little bits of glass stuck in the edges like pillars around a fountain of blood. The white shirt looked as if it had been tye-died, and seldom droplets of blood fled from his forearm, cascading down onto Naja's wings and down to the world below, like lily petals on a windy day. Naja's talons made a sickening scratch on the pavement outside of the twenty-four hour hospital, and she flew away, leaving the pair to each other. They walked in slowly, L still being cradled like a small child in his arms. Suddenly, an unsuspecting and, quite frankly, tragically innocent nurse moseyed up to them, cheerful and confused.

"Is there anything I could possibly help you with?" She grinned, her pearly white teeth glowing, piercing the dank lighting of the hospital lobby. O turned L's arm towards her, it already having bled through his shirt. She gasped, covering up her perfectly groomed mouth with a perfectly manicured and cared for hand. She nodded, calling over an almost oblivious doctor standing conveniently near the desk, whispering into her ear. The doctor nodded, showing the pair down a mystique hall, up a flight of stairs, and into a cold, tile-floored room, all the while showing no sign of human emotion or concern. L was still being carried by O, but she gestured to put him down on a bed, and so he did, while L mumbled things of incoherence and confusion.

She pulled on blue latex gloves, managing to stay completely expressionless all the while. O was twiddling his thumbs in a genuine state of nervousness. "How did he contract the injury?" O looked up, the doctor's face revealing suspicion.

"He slammed his fist on a table, on a glass table, and then he fainted from blood-loss." She nodded, as if this was nothing new.

"Right then. We'll just need to remove the glass in the wound, then package it all up," she made a rolling motion with her fists, "and he should be mainly okay. We'll put him on some pain medication." O nodded, glad the doctor's explanation didn't take very long. The doctor disappeared from the room, returning with two colleagues, and they got to work patching up L's arm. O looked away, not being able to stand the sight of L being in pain. _Wait, what_? O stared at L for a moment, cringing at his pain, and again being forced to look away. _I kill people, yet I'm disturbed by the very person I'm trying to kill being hurt. _L squirmed, repulsed by the touch of the cold hands on his wound. He shrieked, being anguished by the pressure of the off-white bandage that was making its way around his thin pale arm, turning pink on the lower layers. The sound stung O's ears, making him want to rip his senses from his very being. The little group of doctors pulled off their gloves collectively, each one making a small snap sound. O rubbed his temples, the disturbing sound of L's pain lasting in his ears. L sat up dizzily, cracking his neck. The emotionless doctor and her two disciples followed her as they exited the room, leaving a prescription on the counter-top by the sink. He pulled the clingy sheet of bloodied wax paper from his arms, leaving a slight pink stain on his already ruined shirt. He grimaced.

"What did you do?" O looked down at his feet in shame and began to blubber.

"i don't know, I just-" L grabbed O's shirt collar in pure concentrated anger.

"What. Did. You. Do?" O smirked, back to his regular self again.

"I took you to a hospital. Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Headstrong I-don't-need-medical-attention-even-when-I-faint-like-an-idiot?" L removed his hands from the collar of O's shirt and relaxed his arms, breathing heavily.

"Just for future reference, you can't actually faint because of lack of intelligence. My body was simply reacting to the loss of blood naturally; nothing to do with my intellect." O frowned at the straight-forward, logical explanation L had given for his fainting.

"Oh, just _shut up._" O leaned forward, grabbing L's collar and pressing his lips to the raven-haired detective's. L froze in rigid shock, his eyes wide open. O ended the kiss, letting go of L's collar with a satisfied expression on his face.

"Wh-wh-what was that for?" L was almost shaking, O was still grinning in delight.

in

"Oh, just a little experiment. Well, ta-ta!" O flung himself out of the window, going straight down until Naja caught him and lifted him into the air, a warning expression on her face that seemed to be directed towards L. O gave a flirty grin and waved his fingers in the brief second that their eyes met through the window, and then Naja flapped off. L sighed, still shaken, and snatched up the pain medication. He exited the hospital building, contacted Watari, and was on his way to the hotel.

Immediately upon arriving, he tried to call Mello and Matt, but there was no answer for either. Directly to voicemail it went, and L knew what had happened. Mihael Keehl and Matt Jeevas. They were dead.

Author's note: Sorry it took so long and was a lot shorter than I said it would be! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and please review if there is something you think could be fixed!


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